roles reversed
by Delphinium14
Summary: what if America was the only princess of Illea and Maxon was a 5. how would events unfold? find out. just give it a chance please. ;)
1. suggestions

Hey I am going to need suggestions for guys for America's selection. Things like:

Name:

Surname:

Caste:

Character:

Hobbies:

Eye colour:

Hair colour:

Ties to another country optionally:

Good qualities:

What languages he speaks:

Anything you can think of really

I'd love it if you send something in. if you do I'll put your character in my story.

xoxo


	2. Chapter 1

**here is the first ****chapter for you guys. please send in suggestions like i asked otherwise i won't be able to put up the next chapter.**

**I do not own the selection trilogy all rights go to Kiera Cass.**

"Aspen!" I scream running directly into his open arms. It had been 4 days since I had last seen him. Way too long in my opinion.

Aspen is one of our stable boys, and the love of my life. I meet him whenever I can in our secret meeting place.

This is a place deep in the garden that no one has ever discovered, apart from the 2 of us. It's in a corner near the stables, concealed by some rosebushes.

Sometimes when I don't have a bunch of princessly duties and a whole free day, I come here with him. Today is one of those days.

On days like these I will sneak a bunch of food out of the palace, and have picnics with Aspen. He will play with my hair, and I'll sing for him. And we will kiss, there will always be a lot of kissing. Too bad we can't take it any further, because if they would find out or if I would become pregnant, Aspen would be killed for sure. And there will be great punishments for me. They'd kill me too if I weren't the only princess of Illea.

Sometimes if he could afford it Aspen would pay me a penny for my singing. The first few times he did that, I said that I couldn't accept that, that he needed it way more than I did. But he woudn't take no for an answer. So now I have a big jar full of pennies on my nightstand.

Today was no different than all those other wonderful days. I am singing to Aspen when all of the sudden I hear my father shouting at me. The first thing that goes through my mind is 'what on earth is my father doing here?' but then as I see Aspen being dragged away by guards and feel my fathers strong hand wrap around my arm pulling me away all I can think is 'oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit' I am crying and screaming for Aspen.

And before I know what's happening to me I am in the secret little room where my father always whips me. I should've seen this coming.

My father throws me to the floor and takes out his whip.

"You will pay for this." I hear him say.

My father started whipping me when I was about 10 years old. He found me too rebellious.

"Count to 40." He says to me.

These whippings were becoming bigger and bigger.

"Father please. Please don't hurt him. Please don't kill him. Anything but that." I beg him.

"Fine. I'll banish him instead. But that will result in ten more for you." He says.

Oh no 50. I am used to it. But this is really going to hurt.

I sit still as I wait for the first one to come.

And then I feel it. The burning sensation of a million knives cutting into my back.

"1"

When my father is done he just leaves. And I am left in that little room in a pool of my own blood. It is not like it hasn't happened before. Like I already said he has been whipping me since I was 10.

So I knew what to do. I get up - slowly and painfully – but I get up. I walk to the far side of the room, and push one of the bricks. A secret passageway opens and I can walk to my room without anyone noticing. When I finally arrive in my room after that agonizing trip of stairs and stairs and stairs and stairs I walk to my nightstand which keeps a little box with the supplies I need to tend to my wounds.

I carefully apply a generous amount of some kind of salve to prevent infection, and then bandage my wounds.

After this I let myself drop onto my stomach, and exhaustion takes over.

When my maids wake me up they are extra careful to get me ready. Over the years Anne, Mary, and Lucy have learned not to question these situations any more.

When they have carefully bathed and dressed me in a beautiful chiffon like blue daydress that reaches just above my knees they apply my make-up and do my hair quickly. Then they tell me that Aspen is leaving in 5 minutes and that if I want to see him leave I can do so if I am fast, so I will be in time for breakfast.

I quickly grab the jar with pennies – Aspen would never accept my money, but maybe he'll accept this – and head outside.

When I arrive outside I see Aspen standing in front of a car that will lead him far far away.

I run over to him ignoring the agonising pain in my back from my still fresh wounds. But he doesn't hold his arms open as usual so I can run into them, I blame this on the fact that if he did he would probably be killed anyway in stead of banished.

But when I get to him it's his words that hurt me most. More than my whipping yesterday. More than I could ever imagine.

"America it's better this way. With the selection coming up for you. We could never be together." These words are understandable, it's probably true.

"We could've worked something out. It's all my fault." I say silently crying.

"No America. I was going to break up with you anyway." These are the words that broke my heart.

I dump the content of my jar of pennies in his hand. Not wanting a reminder of him. Wishing that with all of those pennies gone out of my life, so could the past 2 years.

I turn around dry my tears and start walking towards the gate. Going back to the palace, silently begging to anyone who is listening that I can just forget.

Then I make an enormous mistake. I look back one last time. And what I see breaks my already broken heart.

I see Aspen holding his arm over the shoulders of another girl. He has already restarted. Already forgotten.

Or maybe it never meant anything to him. He was just happy with the free food, and to be dating the only princess of Illea.

But it also gives me the determination that I need.

I am going to find the right guy in the selection. And I am going to marry him and have children with him and grow old with him.

These are my thoughts as I walk back to my room shoving the stupid jar with it's one stubborn penny still in place deep into the back of my closet, to be forgotten.

**thanks for reading.**

**please review, follow, favorite! :)**

**xoxo**


	3. Chapter 2

**hey everyone,**

**i'm sooooooo sorry this update took so long, but i was having a lot of tests and just didn't have the time to update another chapter. i hope you enjoy this new chapter! and thank you soooo much for the reviews! i got 16!**

As I walk into the dining room this morning for breakfast I can almost feel the tension amongst everyone there. Now everyone aren't really that many people. Although this would soon change when the selection would start. I couldn't believe that in just a week time this place would be flooded with 35 teenage boys.

Imagine how much less lonely it would be.

But for now it was just my father king Clarkson, my mother queen Amberly, and a few people of the staff running around with plates full of food. Oh how I had always loved food. And still do. The sensational feeling of all those tastes flooding your tongue…

But I'm trailing of. As I said there was an enormous kind of tension.

I could see my father glaring daggers at me. He was without a doubt still very pissed off, to say so lightly, about what he had discovered yesterday. And my mother , my sweet mother just sitting there not having a clue why it was so tense, probably just assuming that I was extremely nervous about the selection. Because well, the 'candidates' would be revealed tonight on the report, after all.

As I sat down for breakfast, no words were exchanged for a good 20 minutes. All that could be heard were the utensils scraping on the plates and the sound of breathing and chewing.

My mother however attempted to speak. "America darling I see you are quite nervous about the selection."

I decide to play along. "Why yes mother, it is nerve wracking to know that tonight I will see the face of my husband amongst 34 others who I will have to send away."

Oh god now I started thinking about these details it was rather nerve wracking.

How did father do this?

"America. America darling we are going to be late for the report." I heard my mother say from outside my door.

I was as good as done. My lovely maids ad bathed me, done my make up and hair, and were now helping me into a beautiful evening gown.

Usually my maids dressed me to make me look like an innocent little girl. Don't get me wrong they were all beautiful gowns, but I was ecstatic that they dressed me in something that so perfectly reflected me.

It was a simple light blue one-shoulder flour length gown. It had a sparkly waistband and a sparkly patch on top of the one strap there was. And the flowiness of it combined with that one shoulder strap made it that tad different.

I loved it.

It made a statement.

The only jewellery I wore with this was my favourite necklace. It was a simple songbird on a white-golden chain. The only flair about this necklace were the few tiny diamonds and single sapphire inlaid in the songbird.

To me it represented freedom, beauty and innocence.

Things that my father took from me.

How can I be free if I have to do everything as he pleases, and if I don't I'll be whipped.

How can I be beautiful with all those scars lining my lower back.

How can I be innocent after being whipped time and time again.

Free, beautiful, innocent girls don't get whipped by their father.

Mine does.

And I hate him for it.

My thoughts are interrupted by my mother barging into the room saying that if I don't come right now I will miss the report.

As I wait backstage I see people running around making last adjustments to the lights, the camera-equipment and microphones. Things like that.

After a while of my staring into the air, and having my nerves eat me alive I hear the little countdown until we go live (or whatever it's for).

I see Gavril walk up onto stage greeting everyone there, and go back to staring into the air until I hear him introduce the royal family. Which is my cue to go up on stage.

God I'm so nervous. I've done this a million times before, but this time obviously there was something different.

That being, that from one of the 35 faces I'm going to see on that screen today one is going to be my future husband.

Oh yes, that is definitely where the nerves are coming from.

"America?"

"Wait. Sorry, what was that?"

"Hahaha, I said: are you nervous? But I think this answers my question."

"Oh yes Gavril, my nerves are eating me alive!"

"I don't think anyone would be any different in your position."

"The thing is Gavril, how am I supposed to choose who to marry from 35 boys?"

"I agree completely America. Shall we simply get on with it and take a look at the boys?"

"That would be lovely Gavril."

As soon as I have finished my sentence I see the first boy appearing on the screen. He is a very handsome boy with brown hair and blue eyes. Above him appears the name, Adam Burton caste 2. He seems nice enough. After him a lot more names pass. Thing like, Will Flanagan caste 5, Kyle Delaroco caste 3, Adrian Park caste 2, James Calvin caste 7, Lance Simmons caste 6 whose midnight black hair covers his left eye – I always wondered why people did that, doesn't it make it hard to see things? - , and Steve Windrop caste 2.

One of the thoughts that struck me after this is that I never would've thought that my father would let people with such low castes in the selection.

After all of these names and all of these faces my attention kind of drifted away. I started staring into space again.

Until I saw Maxon Singer appear on the screen. He was a caste 5, but that's not what caught my attention. What caught my attention was his beautiful smile, and something hidden deep in his beautiful brown eyes. I wanted to look deeper but the next picture already appeared on the screen displaying a John Winchester caste 4.

The rest of the interview I just sat there not really looking, with the image of this Maxon Singer stuck in my head, trying to decipher the look in his eyes. And all I could come up with was love.

And I couldn't help but hope it was for me.

**i hope you enjoyed that. **

**and please review, PM, follow, favorite.**

**yeah... please review!**

**xoxo**


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